Hangover II
by julesgriffith
Summary: Sequel to Hangover. Aftermath of 5.23. Cuddy takes House home after treatment in the psychiatric hospital.
1. Chapter 1

**Hang(over) II**

**by Jules**

**1/5  
**

**Synopsis:** Continuation of Hang(over). My version of the aftermath of 5.23.

**A/N:** So if you haven't read this first part, I pretty much went in the other direction from canon in 5.24, but it's still angsty. They _did_ make love, however, the hallucinations never stopped. House was admitted to the loony bin and was treated with electroshock therapy. The side affect: he lost memory of the events preceding the treatment.

**Part 1**

They rode in awkward silence to Cuddy's house, glancing at each other periodically, waiting for the other to speak, to make their sudden union make sense. Something was different about her, but House couldn't figure out what. His eyes roamed over her body—everything seemed in place, breasts taunt, muscles firm, hips perfectly curvaceous.

No, her anatomy seemed more than intact.

She caught him staring.

"What?"

"You want something from me. Otherwise, you would have let Wilson pick me up."

"Yes," was all she said.

* * *

House labored the distance to her doorstep. Cuddy turned around, unable to take his pain anymore. "Let me take your bag," she offered.

"I got it." His pride wouldn't let her help him, although he wanted nothing more than to throw his things down and let her carry him the rest of the way.

Cuddy opened the door to her house. House stepped inside, immediately noticing how much it had changed since the last time he had been there. It was completely domestic. Cuddy was really a mom now, as much as he loathed the idea. She had done it. She had her own fabricated family of two plus nanny.

"You can put it in the guest room," Cuddy instructed. House took in the distance to the back rooms verses the short few steps to her fru-fru girly sofa.

"I can just sleep on the couch."

"House, you'd be more comfortable—"

"No, _you'd_ be more comfortable. Stop it, mommy." House plopped down on her sofa and shut her and the world out as he closed his eyes, his body sore and confused from the day's events.

"Fine. Be miserable on my couch. I don't care. I'm gonna go check on Rachel." Cuddy escaped to the back of the house. She shut the nursery door and finally let herself exhale.

"Is everything alright?" Her nanny Anna asked innocently.

Cuddy turned around and plastered a fake smile on her face. "It's fine. You're free to go now."

* * *

Not ten minutes later, House found himself standing at the nursery door, watching Cuddy play with the baby on the floor. He tapped his cane on the wood almost shyly. She looked up at him and smiled slowly.

"What's for dinner?" He said the first thing that came to mind. At least it was better than 'I don't want to be alone.'

She narrowed her eyes at him, and for a moment, he thought she saw through him. "You're a bottomless pit. We just ate an hour ago."

He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "My endocrine system demands it."

Suddenly, her face went ashen. "What?"

House shook his head, his mind clouded and aching. "Side affect of the brain zappage. Random verbiage flies out at will."

"Oh," she recovered quickly, replacing her disappointment with a cheeky grin. "So…you have no control over your mouth. How is that _any_ different than before?"

"Touché." House grinned just as Rachel squealed, demanding to be picked up. He locked eyes with the little girl, no longer a blob of flesh, but a little person with bright, aware eyes taking in everything around her. He had been able to ignore her existence for months, but that didn't seem possible anymore. Cuddy lifted the little girl and the child nestled against her shoulder. House had waited long enough. It was his turn now. "So are you gonna tell me?"

"What?" Cuddy frowned as she swayed and rubbed Rachel's back.

"Why are you doing this?" He pointed awkwardly between the two of them.

She held the baby closer, letting her be a natural barrier. "You're my friend, House."

He stared at her, analyzing every flinch, blink, swallow, and dilating pupil. Her reasoning was completely unscientific. "_Friend_," he said skeptically.

"Yes, _friend_." Rachel laughed, calling her mother out on her lie.

"You're blushing." House took a step closer to her.

"I need to put her down." However, Cuddy didn't move. House came closer to the two of them. The baby was wide awake. He could feel the energy coming off of Cuddy in waves.

He didn't know what to do now that he was here. He looked at Rachel for help.

"She's gotten big. Like a little Chihuahua with hair."

Rachel pointed her finger at him accusingly. "Bug."

House rolled his eyes. "Oh, great. It speaks."

"Boo boo!" Rachel stuck her short finger in his chest.

"Perceptive kid." House scoffed and quickly left them alone.

* * *

It took an hour to put Rachel to sleep. Cuddy didn't mind. She needed time to think, and she couldn't do that with House looking over her shoulder. She closed the nursery door and stepped into the hallway. It was quiet, except for the buzz of the t.v. from the living room.

"House?" She called out. He didn't answer, so she peeked inside the living room. Bea Arthur was singing "What'll I Do?" on _The Golden Girls_.

_When I'm alone _

_With only dreams of you_

_That won't come true_

_What'll I do?_

"House?" She whispered again. He was asleep on the couch. He look exhausted, but almost, almost peaceful. At least, that's what she wanted to believe.

"House," she said again, to hear his name out loud, to make sure he was really here with her. Tears came fast as she sat next to him. She had to cover her mouth to hide her sobs and suppress her voice. "House," she said again and again, until she was exhausted, until she had convinced herself that he wasn't a dream or a hallucination, until she lay her head down on his chest and faded into real dreams. "House."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hang(over) II**

**By Jules**

**(2/5)**

**A/N:** So funny side note story about my reaction to the finale. My girlfriends and I get together on Monday's and cook and watch _House_. So after the big "shocker" ending, 7 of us sat there STUPEFIED for a solid 5 minutes without saying a word. It didn't matter that half of them called the hallucination 4 months ago (I was in staunch denial, I'll admit it)—we were just blown away.

That said, I'll confess. I think TPTB went in the right direction. Anyway, enjoy the next chapter. Feedback is welcomed and appreciated. :)

* * *

**Part 2**

House's chest was heavy and he couldn't breathe. For a moment, he thought this was the beginning of death. He had had many of those moments in the hospital when he didn't believe he could go on anymore, but he would imagine her face, and he knew he couldn't leave her behind.

His imagination was vivid. He didn't know if it was the hallucinations coming back in a crueler form, so he chose not to trust anything.

So he went through hell for her knowing they were impossible. He hoped only to see her again. That would be enough.

However, when he opened his eyes, she was there, fast asleep _on him_.

It…was strange. Different.

It was…_nice_.

He adjusted them slowly, as to not wake her. He couldn't remember the last time he had been able to get this close to her with the luxury of examination. Cuddy had an imperfect face, which made her all the more beautiful to him. Soft shadows were cast under her eyes, and her hand held his t-shirt possessively.

He wondered if she had been crying.

He wondered how she got here. _And why_.

For months she had been distant. The tension was still there. Hell, the tension had always been there, but she had put a cool arm's length between them after he had screwed everything up with some inappropriate PDA.

He _had thought_ he didn't want a relationship. But the more distance she created, the closer he wanted to be.

Tentatively, he caressed her cheek, exploring his new proximity to her. His hand traveled down the side of her ribcage, and he couldn't help but apply pressure, allowing himself the pleasure of feeling her. His body was flush against hers, molding to her every curve. Her warmth and breath radiated against his skin.

He had never been more turned on in his life.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open.

Her eyes were bright, vibrant, and filled with something he didn't understand.

"Do you—?" She started, her eyes searching his hopefully.

He didn't know what was going on with her, but her face, eyes, the way she was looking at him…He couldn't take it. He wanted her in a way that was primal and necessary.

It happened fast and rough, and they didn't kiss as he pulled her sweatpants down with a hard jerk or when she yanked at his zipper until he was hard and out. They didn't take the time to undress or talk or really think about what they were doing. In a second, he was inside of her deep and fucking her hard, _so hard_, and it was almost worth it until she began to cry.

"I can't do this." She pushed against his chest, separating herself from him. Devastated. "I'm sorry."

House followed her up, his head exploding. "Cuddy. What the _hell _is going on?"

"I just wanted….But you're…You're not—" She paced back and forth, unable to control her tears.

"Good enough." The words stung his lips, bitter and true. "I know."

Cuddy stopped pacing and stared at his slumped shoulders and defeated form. "House, no—"

"Cuddy, I get it. A pity fuck is still a fuck," he said sardonically. He limped closer to her, pain etching his face. He shrugged and said quietly, "I would never turn you down."

"No, House. I just want you to remember," she pleaded, almost touching his face but her hand froze, dangling mid air between them.

"I remember _enough_. I should go." House went for the door, forgetting his suitcase behind. "This was a shitty idea. Guilt and recovery never go hand in hand."

She followed him to the door and slammed her hand on it before he could open it.

"Please. Stay."

He exhaled and kept his eyes on the door. "Why?"

She shrugged, feeling weak and helpless. "Because you want to."

His jaw tightened. "Not good enough."

"Because I want you to." He finally looked at her. He had never seen her like this. The closest he could remember was when she lost Joy. This was different. This wasn't about losing a baby.

This was about him.

"Only if you stop lying to me."

Cuddy scoffed. Somehow between keeping her promise to him and their unresolved feelings, she'd forgotten her resolve to stay away from him. "You're right. This is a shitty idea."

"Something's happening." House took her hand, unsure what to do next. Romantic gestures weren't his strong suit. "Something's happened."

Cuddy sighed, self-loathing filling her. "You're recovering, and I'm getting in the way. That's what's happening."

He shook his head perceptively. "You're freaking out."

That set her off. "Yes! You were hallucinating for weeks and you almost killed yourself. I couldn't help you. I—"

"Who took me to the hospital?"

She looked away from him. "House, that's not the—"

"Who?" He made her look at him again.

"Wilson. And me," she admitted quietly.

House nodded. "Then you helped me."

Cuddy smirked self-consciously and lowered her eyes. "Jumping you twelve hours after your release isn't. There's something wrong with me."

House stepped closer to her and whispered in her ear, "Then I hope it's a permanent condition."

She shook her head, eyes sad. "Nothing's permanent, House." He let go of her hand, and he watched her flee to the back of the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hang(over) II**

**By Jules**

**(3/5)**

**A/N: Sequel to Hangover, aftermath of 5.23. I pretty much went the opposite way of the show, mainly because I honestly didn't believe it would be an hallucination. Alas….**

House stood in her bedroom door, watching her get dressed unapologetically on a chilly Monday November morning. The first time he had caught her getting dressed had been an accident, now it had become one of their "things."

Every morning after her shower, he would stop outside her door. Each day, the door would be opened a little wider. She would fain indignation for a second then proceeds to get dressed.

It used to take her two minutes to get ready for work.

Now, she took a solid fifteen minutes to don all of her clothing.

House pouted, "I want to go back to work too."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. He had used the same line for the past five days. "You haven't even been home a full week."

"You don't trust me yet." He watched her slip her skirt over her legs and hike it up with a swish of her hips.

"When have I ever trusted you?" Her side zipper rattled as she caught his eyes through her dresser mirror.

"You could sit in on my differentials. Monitor my every move." Her fingers glided down the buttons of her shirt.

"Oh my God. You've actually managed to get sick of General Hospital."

"Never. I just need…" His thought process screeched to a halt when she sat on her bed and began to rub lotion on her legs. This had become his absolute favorite part of her morning process. "...outer stimulation."

"Black heels by the door." She caught them one at a time as he tossed them her way. "I don't think it's a good idea."

He studied her. She was focusing on becoming 3 inches taller instead of him. "No….That's not it. You're not telling me something."

Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked closer to him, snapping a gold stud in her right earlobe. "I just don't want you to have any setbacks. That's all."

He narrowed his eyes at her, watching more gold glitter on her wrist and neck. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to teach the wee bambino how to drive the motorcycle while mommy's at work."

"Don't you dare take Rachel on that death mobile!" Her necklace fell down the front of her blouse before she could hook it.

House leaned forward, catching a glimmer of gold nestled at her waistline. He lifted the tail of her shirt and pulled it free. Gingerly, he turned her around, lifted her hair, and fastened her necklace back in place. "Let me come back to work," he whispered.

Cuddy's brow furrowed. "No."

"Anna!" House bellowed down the hall. "You can take the day off! Cuddy's letting me babysit today!"

"Anna! Who pays you?" Cuddy countered smoothly.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dr. Cuddy," Anna replied, not missing a beat.

Cuddy picked up her briefcase and pushed him out of her bedroom. "Back on my couch, Mister."

House scoffed but moved anyway. "This isn't forever, you know."

* * *

"Dr. Cuddy. We've been waiting," stated Dr. Culver, president of the board.

Cuddy didn't waist anytime. "I want to talk about reinstating Dr. House as the Head of Diagnostics."

"I see. You know our position. I'm not sure I see the point in bringing this up again. The vote was unanimous, including you, if I recall correctly."

"I think it's imperative we revisit this. He's made vast improvements over the past few months. I can say with total confidence that he will be able to return and perform his duties in a healthy physical and mental state."

"Cuddy, you know very well there are no guarantees when it comes to him," Wilson said quietly.

"You have _my_ guarantee."

Eyes played around the room, skeptical, some even darkly gleeful. Cuddy was always going out on a limb for House but never quite like this. The results could be disastrous, especially for the Dean.

"Very well. As Dean of Medicine, you and you alone are solely responsible for him. Any deviant behavior or sign of mental instability, you will be held accountable for his actions. All in favor…."

* * *

Cuddy wasn't sure what she had gotten herself into, however, when she opened her front door that evening, she found a surprising site she wasn't really sure how to take. "_What _are you doing?"

House grinned and Rachel giggled at the site of her mother. "Early education. Besides, she likes the pictures."

House had commandeered Rachel's never used easel, making it his new white board.

Symptoms streamed down the pastel paper:

Hallucinations

Trauma to the frontal lobe

Heart attack

Coma

Head aches

Insomnia

Vicodin

Memory Loss

CUDDY

The room was scatted with books from Cuddy's library. Cuddy dropped her briefcase and picked up Rachel, who was sitting on page 158 of a very large textbook. House frowned, "Hey! She was holding my place!"

He snatched the baby back and gave her a magic marker.

"My daughter isn't a bookmark, House." She kicked the book, slamming it shut. The title flashed boldly across the cover, freezing her.

"_Neurobehavioral Impairment and Maladaption, 2__nd__ Edition_," she read and then looked at him sympathetically, her irritation evaporating. "House…."

House rolled his eyes at her sappy expression. "Oh, please. Like you want to watch _Barney and Friends_ one more day than you have to. I'm helping you."

Cuddy put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "If you want to talk—"

House glanced at her hand, and then down at his magic marker. "I don't."

Cuddy sighed, letting it go. She knew she couldn't make him do anything. He was the equivalent to a human rock.

"You eaten yet?" She called from the kitchen.

"Waiting on you. Ray Charles ate about an hour ago with Anna."

Cuddy peaked inside the living room, eyeing the odd couple. Something inside of her swelled, feeling greedy at the picture they made just for her, as House scribbled down more clues and Rachel chewed on the end of the green marker.

She leaned against the doorframe. "House, I spoke to the board today about reinstating you."

"And?" House looked up from his puzzle.

"They agreed."

House smirked. "Sometimes I think you can walk on water, Boss."

Cuddy took a deep breath. What she agreed to was convoluted and ridiculous. But she was in, and there was no way to do this but full capacity. "I have some conditions."

House raised his eyebrows. "Sounds dirty and horribly le-_gal_."

"You can think of it as voluntary prison if you like."

"Huh?'

"You have to live here with me indefinitely."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hang(over) II**

**By Jules**

**T+**

**4/5**

**A/N:** This story feels freakishly AU. Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

**Synopsis:** Aftermath of 5.23. Sequel to Hang(over).

* * *

"Are you hallucinating too?"

Cuddy smiled wryly. "I'm of sound mind, House."

"Is Culver blackmailing you? Maybe Wilson! That _dog_…"

"I think we should move in together."

House shifted uncomfortably. "Why? I may have missed out on my Must Be Anal courses in college, but I'm pretty sure the board would never force you into something this idiotic."

"No, but I am responsible for you and your actions."

"Says who?!"

"The board. Unanimously."

House looked away, smiling stupidly despite himself. "Cuddy, you can't control me."

This she knew. But that wasn't her style, had never been. When she wanted something from him, she never went through him but around, sideways, and backwards again until he had no choice.

"No, but I can watch your every move and dive in front of you before you have another train wreck, getting us both fired."

He narrowed in on her. "So your job is on the line. The truth behind the lies."

"Only because I _fought_ for your job in the _first_ place. I didn't _have_ to do it," she answered smugly. She hated having to justify her actions. That's why she was the boss, so she didn't have to answer to anyone. Especially House.

"I knew there was something else," he pressed. He couldn't take the static unknowing. He grabbed the marker from the floor and began to write furiously across the other symptoms.

"House—"

"**Cuddy's lying**," he pronounced and underlined in big, bold and black letters.

She grabbed the marker from him, scratching out his new symptom. "I'm _not_ lying."

"Oh, excuse me. Withholding vital information about my brain!"

Cuddy threw down the marker. "If you wanted to remember, you would. You remember everything else. Everything. You're like a goddamn encyclopedia. It's like _it never even happened—"_

"What happened?!" House shouted, shocking her and Rachel, sending the baby into a fit of wails.

"We had sex, you asshole!" Cuddy screamed, too upset to edit.

Rachel cried as they fell silent. Cuddy kneeled and picked up the baby, soothing her just as much as herself.

House just stared at her in disbelief. Their eyes met again, but they were unable to read each other. House seemed confused; she seemed apprehension and almost regretful.

The baby calmed, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. Wordlessly, Cuddy carried Rachel to the nursery, putting her down. She stood over her longer than necessary, but she needed to gather herself before she rejoined House. She hadn't planned on telling him ever; but now that she had, she had no idea what to do.

House wasn't there when she returned.

She wondered if he would ever come back. After all, he (well, they) had avoided this coupling for years, almost successfully. In all honesty, after sex, was there room for an actual relationship? Her token answer had always been a solid _no_.

There was nothing serious or stable in what they had. Most of the time, it was just there, taunting them like silly schoolgirls.

But the hope, the hope of something more, each and every time brought her back, made it possible for her to hang on.

She turned the porch light on, just in case.

* * *

Later that night, she felt the bed sag next to her. She didn't want to open her eyes.

House's voice was ragged with bourbon as he spoke. "When? That time in….or that unfortunate incident on the couch last week?"

Cuddy stared at his hunched back. He was inebriated. "Right before."

"Jim Beam doesn't do shit for your memory, but I would 'member that."

"Maybe you don't want to," she whispered.

House laughed sardonically. If only she knew. If he could wipe out anything, that would be at the bottom of his list.

"Was it…?" His words hung in the air. His imagination was vivid with scenarios: dirty ones, S&M ones, lesbian ones, even whimsical, romantic ones.

Hot, clean, and sober. Perfect.

But the reality? He looked at her, and he couldn't see it.

She touched his hand softly. "Yes."

"No wonder you're nesting around me." He leaned in closer, wandering what he said, did, touched that made her say yes to it all.

She smiled sadly.

"House. Go to sleep."

* * *

The next morning, House walked into the kitchen and unceremoniously sat at the breakfast table. Cuddy had her back to him, feeding Rachel Cheerios.

"Okay."

"Huh?" She turned around and stared at him quizzically.

"I'll move in. At least until the voodoo wears off." House pushed off his seat and picked Rachel up from her high chair.

"House. Put her down. She's not done eating—"

"What do you say, Rachel Ray," he wiggled the little girl's arms, making her laugh. "What else can we make mommy do?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Hang(over) II**

**by Jules  
**

**(5/5)**

**T+**

**Synopsis:** Aftermath to 5.23, Sequel to Hang(over). House comes home from the mental institution with Cuddy.

**A/N:** Final chapter! There's room for a sequel to this one too, but I may want to start another story altogether. Let me know. Thanks for reading/reviewing! Enjoy!

* * *

Indefinitely turned out to be three weeks and three days.

* * *

It had been an accident, one that Cuddy hadn't foreseen, but such was the nature of accidents.

* * *

House was almost docile at work. His mouth was loquacious as ever, but he gave the board no signs of erratic behavior they so keenly expected to see.

* * *

House and Cuddy had fallen into an easy living pattern, strange, yet completely comfortable and acceptable to them both.

They began sharing a bed the evening he agreed to live with her. He watched her get dressed for work the next morning, but she never made it out of her bedroom. He undressed her slowly and they made love. They were both late for his first day back at PPTH.

It was the first time Cuddy could remember not giving a damn, and it felt wonderful.

She smiled at him, the bed sheets twisted around her waist. "Happy?"

He leaned into her, his eyes filled with her, his voice tinged with mirth, "Only with you."

She kissed his shoulder tenderly, realizing that his own personal demons would never truly cease; but if she could give him some glimmer, some frame of a life, the rest may eventually fade into a distant memory.

Hope is so easy when you are in love.

* * *

And he was good with Rachel. Cuddy didn't press him on the matter, because she knew he would never admit to it, but she could tell he had an odd, yet real affection for her daughter.

He would talk to the little girl like she was an adult, read her bedtime stories from medical journals, and watch everything from soap operas to _Baywatch_ with her.

Cuddy almost put her foot down with _Baywatch_. "She _is_ a baby, House."

"Ew, don't insult her like that."

So _Baywatch_ stayed.

* * *

One night, when Cuddy got home late from the Christmas hospital fundraising meeting, she found House and Rachel stretch out on her sofa, totally engaged in _Wrestlemania_. Rachel was plopped on House's lap, sucking her thumb and twirling House's beard.

Cuddy shut the door quietly and didn't interrupt them.

She went back to her bedroom, and shed her work clothes. She took an indulgent bath, using the soaps and scents she knew House loved. She brushed her hair and smiled to herself, unable to get the image of them out of her mind.

She actually had a family.

She walked back into her living room, ready to join them. _Wrestlemania_ had changed to an episode of_ NCSI_, and the volume was elevated.

She didn't see Rachel.

House was passed out on the couch, and she didn't see the baby. She didn't see—

"House! HOUSE! Where's Rachel? Where's—" House jumped at the shrillness in her voice. His hands went to his chest, immediately missing the weight of his TV companion.

He looked in Cuddy's frantic eyes, unable to speak, unable to offer an explanation.

"RACHEL!" Cuddy yelled, running frantically around the room, turning all of the lights on as gunfire rang out from the TV screen. "Why weren't you watching her, House? She's a baby! _You have to watch her_!"

"I'm—"

"Goddamn it, House! I can't believe I_ trusted_ you—"

"Cuddy. Look."

Underneath the coffee table, Rachel was fast asleep, not a care in the world.

At the same time, House and Cuddy reached for her, but Cuddy glared at him. "_I've_ got her."

* * *

They went to bed that night but didn't touch.

"I'm…" He tried again, miserable at apologizing.

"No." She kept her back to him. "I wasn't thinking."

* * *

In the middle of the night, Cuddy padded into the kitchen, finding House sitting at the table, staring at an empty coffee cup. She had trouble falling asleep next to him, and now that he was gone, she still couldn't sleep. She went straight to the stove and turned on the eye. "More coffee?"

He nodded, watching her precise movements. She was more beautiful to him like this, disheveled, raw, no make-up. He would never tell her, but he actually liked morning now, spending time with her and Rachel.

God. He had screwed up.

"House." Her voice was heavy; her head was down.

"This isn't gonna work," he said before she could.

She froze, and for a moment, he thought she was going to fight him. But she exhaled and nodded. "We tried."

House stood up, trying to stop the knot in his chest, trying to keep breathing, self-protection kicking in. He said lightly, "And as the fallen say, what now?"

Going straight to business, she said quickly, "Nothing has to change at work. I would never…"

House tried to laugh but couldn't. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Cuddy."

She touched his arm, gripping his wrist possessively. "I want you in my life."

"You can't always get what you want." He didn't know which one of them he was talking about, but he knew he couldn't stay. They would hate him one day, and no amount of happiness was worth that.

They kissed until they felt the early morning light hit them, the hangover gone, replaced by the soberness and harsh reality of day.

**THE END**


End file.
